Passion and Quidditch
by kishiee
Summary: Oliver gets into trouble in a game and as punishment, he is sent back to Hogwarts to teach flying and there he meets the fiery Weasley girl and finds they have more in common than they know. OWxGW.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **I've decided to venture out and try out a new pairing. Reviews are always welcome. :)

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**Chapter 1  
**_Fire and Frustrations_

He was still as the deafening sounds of the crowd surrounded them. Flashes of blue and grey were whirling as fast as bullets before him but he maintained focus on one player. One dirty bastard of a player. He watched as Basil Horton smirked as he caught the quaffle that was passed to him easily. The quaffle was clutched tightly in his arm as he advanced on the field towards their hoops, knocking aside those that were in his way. Oliver Wood clutched at his broomstick tightly, his every fibre buzzing with anticipation. He glared at the approaching smug monster as anger began pulsing through his veins. Horton approached the goal posts with increasing speed. He jerked right and made a move to shoot but Oliver's quick eyes caught the fake movement and easily impeded the offending quaffle that was sent shooting into the left. _That was the best the git could come up with?_

The crowd broke into a deafening storm of cheers at Wood's clean block. Horton and his teammates glared at him and zoomed away to begin another round. Satisfaction coursed through Oliver's blood but anger still boiled deep inside of him. He was getting restless and impatient. Sweat streamed down his forehead in tiny droplets as he fixed his gaze once again on Horton. He watched as the man played fiercely against his opponents, bumping them and knocking them aside roughly just to get his hands on the quaffle. The man's dirty tactics was making Oliver even more furious. He stole a glance at the scoreboard. Puddlemere United was 20 points ahead of the Falmouth Falcons. He returned his focus on the field and easily caught sight of Horton. He was thinking of all the things he would do to the man once the game was over when the crowd suddenly burst into an uproar. Oliver began searching for the cause of the chaos and immediately found it: Puddlemere United's seeker was flying at breakneck speed at pursuit of the golden snitch with the Falcons' seeker not far behind. He watched anxiously as the Falcons' seeker caught up with his team's own. The two seekers began attempting to knock each other aside violently and then without warning and as if in slow motion, Puddlemere United's seeker was knocked off his broom and was sent plunging down into the bottom of the field, allowing the Falcons' seeker to easily grasp the snitch in his huge palm, earning them 150 points and winning them the game.

Oliver cursed as the Falcons' came together, shouting in triumph. He moved to fly down to where his team was crowding around his injured teammate and alighted his broom effortlessly. He was walking towards his team, his blood boiling in contempt at the other team's dirty tactics when he heard his name called. He stopped in his tracks but did not turn around.

"Lost again, eh, Wood? Looks like the God of all Quidditch is beginning to lose everything he's got."

And there, he snapped. Ten seconds later, he was on top of Horton beating the hell out of the git. He couldn't hear the commotion that had erupted around him. His team and the Falcons were in a brawl and the crowd had erupted into chaos.

"I expected more of you, Wood," said Coach Bentworth, his eyes narrowed at the slumped figure of Oliver Wood. "You, a player of more than three years, should know better!"

Oliver wrung his hands together impatiently, waiting for his coach's long tirade to just be over so he can get a long, hot shower.

"You have most of your teammates injured- thank Merlin they're all minor - and you put the team's reputation on the line!" The older man glanced at the bloody and bruised state of his team.

"I was provoked," said Oliver quietly as a feeble attempt to defend himself.

"What? You were provoked? Since when have you let their shitty comments get to you, huh?" He paused but when Oliver didn't say a word, he continued. "What's going on, Wood? You're always late at practice, you're always keeping to yourself and you always seem to be in a foul mood. What's going-"

"I don't know so will you please just shut up!"

An awkward silence fell upon the whole team as tension began to fill the room. Oliver closed his eyes and sighed. Coach Bentworth crossed his arms, his face straight.

"You're suspended."

Oliver looked up at his coach incredulously. His team was groaning and protesting behind him but the words his coach had just uttered were ringing in his ears.

"Your behaviour on the field today won you nothing but a suspension and your little outburst earned you a trip back to Hogwarts- yes, Hogwarts - Oh, will you shut up and listen?" shouted Coach Bentworth. The team fell into silence but all were looking at him as he just grew another head.

"Hogwarts has been looking for a flying teacher and I think it'd be best if you were to take the job. Get yourself back into sorts and you might even learn a thing or two from there."

Oliver opened his mouth to protest but was restrained by a sharp glare. "I've made a decision that cannot be moved. You will agree to my terms or I'll be forced to withdraw your captaincy for the rest of your remaining contract. Your dismissed."

The young man groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. He was so exhausted and so frustrated. He ignored the pats and words of encouragement his teammates gave him on their way out. He stood up slowly and suddenly kicked at the lockers frustratedly.

A few hours later, he was in a pub drinking his frustrations away and keeping his eyes on that fiery redhead dancing in the middle of the dance floor. She was a stranger to him but she seemed oh so familiar. He got up slowly and moved to approach the girl when suddenly, just like that, she had already gone.

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**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Hope you like this chapter. Not much yet but I hope you'd review. :)

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**Chapter 2  
**_Nostalgia and Silence_

The chilly November air nipped at his face as he stood before the grand iron gates of the entrance to the castle. He looked up at the towering and massive stone building shielded by high walls and immediately, a rush of nostalgia overcame him. The castle might look eerie and lonely but to Oliver, the castle looked and felt so welcoming. It had been his home for seven years after all.

"Mr Wood?" a wheezy voice called out, bringing Oliver out of his reverie. He looked at the owner of the voice and was not surprised to see Filch standing at the gate with an oil lamp held out in front of him. He saw the huge cat just behind Filch and couldn't help but remember all the games and pranks that he and his friends had played on Filch and his pet.

Oliver nodded politely at the old man who responded with what Oliver thought was a feeble attempt at a smile and proceeded to follow him into the castle. The walk up into the castle was a quiet one except for the occasional mews of Mrs Norris and Oliver took the opportunity to be lost again in his own thoughts. It had been a week since the nasty quidditch incident and he was still in a dazed state about his suspension and his "punishment". He was still angry but he couldn't help but feel a little bit of anticipation about being back in Hogwarts and on the Quidditch field where he found his true passion.

They ascended a flight of stone steps that Oliver knew only too well led to the Great Hall.

"Professor McGonogall has arranged for you to have dinner first. You should go in now, lad. You'll find your trunk in your room," said Filch but Oliver couldn't process anything the man was saying. He was too busy taking in the sight of all the students rushing in and out of the Great Hall with their robes flaring behind them and suddenly, he felt the biggest wave of nostalgia hit him. He was too wrapped up in his emotions that he didn't notice Professor McGonogall beside him. It was only when she cleared her throat that he did took notice.

"Professor McGonogall," he greeted, slightly surprised.

"Pleasant evening, Mr Wood," she replied with a surprisingly warm smile. "You arrived just in time for dinner, young man. Shall we?"

"Of course, madam," said Oliver politely as led her into the Great Hall. It felt awkward to be entering the hall through the faculty entrance and was greatly relieved by his old Head of House leading him. The uncertainty and doubt slowly washed away though when he entered and was greeted by words of welcome and warm smiles from the rest of the faculty. He was surprised to see that most of his old teachers were still there, even old Professor Flitwick but he saw several new faces as well. Professor McGonogall had showed him his seat and he reached it but not without getting a rather strong pat on the back by none other than the jolly half-giant, Hagrid.

He took his seat between who he remembered had taught him Arithmancy, Professor Vector and a young witch that he didn't yet know. He settled in his seat, clearing his throat to rid himself of the anxiety he was feeling and then, he didn't even know how it had happened but suddenly he realized that the hall was buzzing loudly with whispers and chatters and all eyes were on him. He looked around uncertainly and cleared his throat once again.

"Thought you might have been used to it," said the young witch beside him. He looked at her as she took a sip of pumpkin juice and he thought she was rather pretty with her bright blue eyes and dark, curly hair.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, confused.

She gestured towards the body of students in front of them and smiled.

"Being stared at and talked about," she explained. "Thought you might have been used to it, being one of the most famous quidditch players out there today."

He was about to reply when he heard a rather loud exclamation from one of the students.

"Is that Oliver Wood? Oh my god!" followed by a loud series of squeals and cheers from the students. He cringed (not visibly, he hoped) at this and he shifted a little in his seat.

"Oh, you must excuse the ladies, Mr Wood," said Professor Vector apologetically with a smile. "You _are_ a very handsome athlete after all." He forced a smile at his old professor and the young lady beside him laughed amusedly.

"Yes, you are _the_ Oliver Wood after all," she piped with a smile. "You'll get used to it, don't worry. I'm Aryana Powler, Muggle Studies teacher."

She held out her hand and Oliver took it without hesitation. He opened his mouth to introduce himself but was waved off.

"Don't bother," she said with a smile. "I already know you, remember?

Oliver smiled but before he could take the conversation (if it even was one) further, Professor McGonogall was on her feet, her mouth pursed into one straight line. It didn't take long for the students to notice her threatening stance and silence and soon, the hall was relatively quiet.

"Good evening, students," said the Headmistress, her eyes sternly looking over each and every house. "I take it from all the commotion you've caused that you have taken notice of the new member of our faculty," she glanced at Oliver, "Mr Oliver Wood here will be teaching flying lessons to all first years and quidditch lessons for the second and third years. Your lesson schedules will be posted as early as tomorrow morning."

The headmistress wasn't even finished speaking when an excited chatter immediately spread through the hall.

Dinner was finally over after what seemed to be forever and Oliver just wanted to get away from the watchful eyes of all the students. He said his good nights to the others after asking the directions to his room and quickly left the Great Hall.

He nodded in greeting to a group of girls that were giggling and smiling at him and this only served to make him walk faster. He crossed a hallway and decided to take a walk around the castle before settling in to bed. He needed to walk out the stress that was building up in him and he hadn't even started working yet.

The part of the castle he was walking in was quiet and cold and he was plenty grateful for the peace. He put his hands into his pockets and his thoughts began drifting to the recent chaos his life was in and suddenly, he was regretting the quietness of the corridors. He let out a sigh of frustration as he headed towards the faculty chambers. It was going to be one hell of a year ahead of him.

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**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling.**

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	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I've been getting a lot of hits, thanks! I hope you guys could review as well. :)

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**Chapter 3  
**_Mr Schoolboy and Ms RedHead_

Oliver shoved his hands into his pockets as he made his way to the Great Hall. It had been another sleepless night and the gloomy weather did nothing to uplift his mood. He reached the main hallway where flocks of students donned in their uniforms walked in and out of the Great Hall and irritation seeped into Oliver's veins at the noise and was further annoyed when he bumped roughly into someone. He cursed when a rather heavy book hit his foot.

"I'm so sorry," said the girl apologetically. Despite his bitter mood, Oliver didn't forget his manners as he bent down to help the girl. They picked up her books while the girl mumbled apologies to him. They stood up and Oliver was about to hand her the last book when he recognized her.

"Hermione Granger?" he asked and the girl looked up at him and smiled when she recognized him. Oliver mustered a smile. In the mood he was in, he wasn't really up for a awkward small talk but he stood at the spot, not wanting to be rude.

"Never thought you'd be back in Hogwarts to teach," said Hermione. He didn't know why he was irritated by that but he thought up a reply anyway.

"Yes, well, neither did I," he said with a forced smile. "Well, I've got-"

"Oh, you must remember Ginny Weasley, don't you? There she is now - Ginny!" she called out and Oliver turned to see who she was calling. A young girl with dark auburn hair whipped around but did not stop walking. Of course, he remembered her. Whoever did not know who Ginny Weasley is must be living under a rock. Aside from being a red-haired Weasley, everyone knew her as the famous girlfriend of none other than Harry Potter.

"Sorry, Hermione! I've got McGonogall in five minutes! She'll turn me into a kneazle if I'm late again," she exclaimed with an apologetic smile and with that, turned around and hurried off, her hair flying behind her like a cape of red and gold. Somehow, he got an idea of why Potter had fallen for her.

"I'm so sorry about that. She's always in a hurry. I told her to think twice about accepting the Quidditch captaincy but she wouldn't listen to me and now she's-"

"Quidditch captaincy?" interrupted Oliver. Now, _that_ he did not know."She's captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"

"Yes, that's right and she's actually doing great. They've yet to lose a match."

He couldn't say he was not intrigued because that's exactly what he was. After all, seeing how the Gryffindor team was doing now that he (all modesty aside) or Potter wasn't here was the only thing he was looking forward to in coming back to Hogwarts.

Hermione looked at him uncertainly. It had been awkward bumping into him and she had tried to strike a friendly conversation with him, they fought together in the war after all, but it seemed he wasn't really himself today. She didn't know what it was but to her, Oliver felt somehow distant but who was she to know; she had never really been close to the man anyway.

"Well, I'm sorry to cut this short but I've got class in twenty minutes," said Hermione. "I guess I'll be seeing you around, Oliver."

They said their goodbyes and when Hermione left, Oliver headed into the Great Hall for breakfast.

The skies were grey and the air chilly when he stepped out onto the quidditch pitch. A feeling of nostalgia and pride threatened to overwhelm him but decided this was not really the best time to revel in his emotions seeing that a group of students in uniforms of blue and yellow were already huddled at the edge of the pitch and Oliver quickly approached them. Their noisy chatter died down immediately when they saw him and he didn't know if it was of fear or respect. He didn't realize that the stern look on his face had at least, intimidated the children.

"Good morning," said Oliver and when there was no response from the wide eyed students, he continued, "My name is Oliver Wood and I'm to teach you how to fly."

It was awkward when the students just blinked at him.

"Right," he said flatly. He glanced around the pitch and saw the pile of broomsticks nearby. "Now, all of you grab a broomstick and form two lines. The Ravenclaws in one and the Hufflepuffs in the other."

They did as they were told rather quietly save for the quick whispers they engaged in. Soon, they were all lined up. Oliver stood in front of them uncertainly. He had no experience in teaching young teenagers. He had always been training with Quiddicth players all his life so it would be a lie if he said he had no problem at all.

He decided he'd start with the basics.

"Basic rule of flying is to be able to communicate with your broomstick," he began. "Once communication with your broomstick is mastered, you'd be able to make it do anything you want to do and every move you make will be as one," he continued, gaining confidence now that he was talking about his passion. "Now, drop your brooms by your feet, place one hand above them and command 'up'. Done correctly, you'll find your broom in your hand."

A few minutes later, Oliver found himself staring at the young students before him, shocked to say the least. At least the Ravenclaws had fared well: most of them were already gripping their broomsticks in their hands but the Hufflepuffs? Well, all he could say was that he was amazed at their immense patience as they continued to mutter "up" over and over again, to no avail.

Oliver had to thank Merlin that the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor was less profound than that before the war although there was a spirit of competitiveness in both houses which he wasn't about to complain of because it drove them to work hard at the tasks at hand, trying their best to outdo each other and Oliver was more than happy that they were able to catch on easily and they were able to cover all the basics of flying in one lesson. He couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for his fellow Gryffindors.

The days had gone by quickly and before he knew it, it was Friday night. It had been an extremely trying week and he wanted nothing more now than to eat and get to bed. He settled into his seat at the faculty table in the Great Hall for dinner and was greeted by the smell of the warm, delicious food in front of him. He was grateful that Aryana was deep in conversation with Professor Trelawny beside her as he filled his plate with roasted chicken and mashed potatoes. He was taking a sip of his pumpkin juice when he caught sight of _her_.

Ginny Weasley was chatting animatedly with a tall, dark-haired boy beside her. She took a seat beside him with Hermione on her other side. Oliver watched with amusement at how she filled her plate with so much food you'd think she hadn't eaten in a week. He saw Hermione scrunch her nose at Ginny, who continued talking to the boy with dark hair. And then, she laughed. It was an open mouthed laugh but Oliver hadn't seen a woman laugh like that and look so adorable. He realized her laugh was contagious when he found that he was smiling.

He froze when she suddenly turned her head, locking his gaze with hers. She had caught him looking and he realized, in horror, that the dark haired boy and Hermione were looking his way as well and apparently, they seemed quite amused. His smile disappeared as one appeared on Ginny's face. He cleared his throat in embarrassment and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. Why was he feeling like such a school boy?

Hermione watched in amazement as Ginny filled her plate with so much food. It reminded her of Ron, really and she scrunched up her nose at the image of Ron stuffing his face.

"So, I walked in and guess what I saw?" Ginny smiled at the look on his face. He was grinning as if he knew some juicy secret. Ginny raised her eyebrows at him, prompting him. "You have to guess!" he exclaimed.

"Just tell me what you saw, Gavin!" exclaimed Ginny, a laugh in her voice. Gavin shook his head in defeat.

"Fine, fine," he said, smiling. Then he looked Ginny in the eye, a mischievous glint in his own and he grinned. "I saw Filch kissing a huge photograph of Umbridge!"

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise as she burst out laughing. Her laugh was incredibly contagious as Hermione and Gavin joined in as well. Then, Hermione saw something that made her abruptly stop.

"Ginny," she said slowly. Ginny looked at her, still clutching her stomach in fits of laughter. "I think Oliver Wood is smiling at you."

Ginny looked at her friend as if she grew a beard.

"Yeah, I think Hermione's right, Gin," said Gavin in an amused tone and Ginny moved to look and indeed, Mr Oliver Wood was looking at her and smiling too. He noticed and brown eyes met brown eyes and she smiled.

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**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I apologize for not having updated in a long time but I've been pretty swamped with school work. Here's the best I could come up with for now. :) Reviews are always welcome.

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**Chapter 4  
**_Dreams and the Quidditch Captain_

_He was sitting in his armchair by the fireplace, a glass of hot butterbeer in his left hand while his right rubbed at his throbbing temples. It had been a hard day on the field and he wasn't exactly top on his coach's list at the moment._

_He tensed when he felt a figure take position behind him and the glass of amber liquid was taken out of his hands and a moment later, two familiar hands came down upon his shoulders, gently gripping them and slowly began massaging the sore muscles. He was surprised at first but it just felt so good and relaxing that he immediately sank into her touch and relaxed._

"_Oliver," she whispered huskily in his ear as she went on with her ministrations._

"_Why are you here?" he asked in a whisper, his eyes closing at the pleasure of the little massage he was getting._

_She stopped and he felt her slowly walk around his chair to stand before him. He looked up at her. Her red see-through nightgown was short and he could see her red bra and barely there knickers through them. She was smirking at him; her too red lips teasing him and daunting him._

_He was filled with anger with her but he couldn't help the erection that strained in his pants. He looked at her with angry eyes and he swore her smirk got even wider. He growled and made a move to pull her to him when she quickly stepped back and avoided his grasp._

_He looked at her questioningly and was furious at the mocking smirk that adorned her eyes._

"_You're not the one I want anymore, Oliver," she said._

Oliver's eyes snapped open. He was breathing heavily and sweat was covering his forehead. He was immediately filled with frustration when he realized that the stupid dream had given him a rather _hard_ problem. _ "To hell with that bitch,"_ he thought as he looked out of his window and saw that the sun was beginning to rise. He got out of bed and stepped into the shower. His muscles tensed and he shivered at the cold water. He seriously needed to get rid of her and those damned memories.

He was walking to the Great Hall when he realized that it was a Saturday and with his hands tucked into his pockets, he changed route and decided to take a walk to the Black Lake instead. Upon reaching the edge, he looked out onto the gleaming surface of the lake and the tranquil silence that greeted him. He realized at once that this was a bad idea: standing alone in silence brought nothing into his mind than the memories and the feelings that had been plaguing him for the past few weeks.

He was brought out of his reverie when a group of loud and boisterous boys passed by him.

"The Gryffs are training this morning!" said one of the boys excitedly and the other boys exclaimed in excitement and cheered.

"Wouldn't want to miss it now, would we?" exclaimed a blonde who was grinning widely.

"That captain of theirs is a wicked one to watch!" cried another.

And that caught Oliver's attention. He looked at the excited and cheering group of boys walking towards the direction of the Quidditch pitch and was immediately curious. The rush that only anything Quidditch could give him came rushing through his veins and he realized suddenly that he was walking the same way the boys had just gone; excitement and curiosity growing inside of him.

He had quite a number of questions in his mind. First, how was the team faring without any of the old players? Second, who were on the team? He began making in his mind a list of the quidditch players that he knew and then remembered that it had been more than three years since he graduated and he was pretty sure that most of his teammates that had made up his team in his time had as well graduated. It seems that this would be a whole new Gryffindor Quidditch team and the most important question in his mind, how was Ginny Weasley doing as captain?

He picked up pace, more eager than ever to get to the pitch. Once he had found a good view of the pitch and began watching, he couldn't help the twitch of a grin that formed on his lips.

The energy was intense. The flurry of red and golden robes flying in the air moved with both agility and grace.

And the voice, oh yes, it was that voice that had caught his attention.

"Lewis, pick up speed- there you go! Hartworth, fly a little higher now, you're flying for the Quidditch team and not for some flying lesson!" commanded the strong but smooth voice.

He looked at the girl standing at the highest level of the stands, her stance authoritative with both one hand propped on her waist as the other held on to a broom- a Firebolt, he recognized- and her face serious as she shouted orders and drill patterns at her team. He recognized the drill patterns. They were his creation. He decided that she must have picked it up from one of her brothers or maybe even Potter. Never did Oliver expect that this girl would be holding captaincy of the Gryffindor team but he realized he should have known better. After all, this girl came from a family of quidditch players. He had had most of his brothers on his team in his own captaincy and they were definitely more than great players.

Oliver looked at her with curiosity.

_Ginny Weasley, what else is there to you?_

_

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_**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.**


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